


Dandelion || A Selection/Hamilton Crossover

by Silverfin64



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) Actor RPF, The Selection Series - Kiera Cass, The Selection/Hamilton Crossover
Genre: Cross-Fandom Ships, F/M, The Selection, hamiltrash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfin64/pseuds/Silverfin64
Summary: Peggy's surprised when she's chosen for The Selection - and she's positive Prince Samson won't choose her. After all, they'd known each other since they were little kids (thanks to her father's wealth and job), and he's never seemed to show any interest in her. She's sure that he'll pick Oakley, or Beth, or, heck, even Fleur, the demon of their Selection.But when the youngest Schuyler is transformed into Lady Margarita, Peggy starts wishing. She meets new friends, like Blake, and gets to know Sam better. And with her close friends seeming father than her and her enemies even farther, she begins to hope that The Selection will be her 'happily ever after' after all.
Relationships: Samson Koskinen/Margarita "Peggy" Schuyler





	Dandelion || A Selection/Hamilton Crossover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mattie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattie/gifts), [Jocey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jocey).



I threw open my closet, debating my choices of what to wear to the ball tonight. My father, Phillip Schuyler, was throwing a ball in order to see which of his three daughters would be married off to Prince Samson Koskinen, or if any daughter would be married to him at all.  
Finally, I chose a dandelion-yellow ruffled tank top, some faded ripped jeans, a black leather jacket, and some black heels. I am NOT a girl who will go to a ball in a fancy dress, even if my father’s family used to be Twos and is still one of the most wealthy families in all of Illea. My father and mother lived in New York City, Waverly, along with my sister, Eliza, and her husband, Alexander Hamilton, who was a soldier in the army. My oldest sister, Angelica Church, was living with her husband, John Church, in London, England.  
Honestly, Prince Samson wasn’t the man of my dreams. He was a little silly and a little reckless, and also a smidge too clumsy. (I’d met him before all of this went down, seeing as my dad was extremely rich...and was high up in the world. So.)  
I couldn’t see myself as his wife, much less getting Selected. There was no possible way. They’d weed me out and say, “This is biased, putting a rich person’s daughter in, let’s chuck her out.” And then they would.  
“Hey, Peggy?” Eliza said, peeking her head into my room. “Yeah, the ball’s about to start.” Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a hairstyle like Belle’s, and she was wearing a sky-blue dress that had long sleeves and went down to just below her knees, and she was sporting the beautiful new white high heels with pearls that Alex had just gotten her. Damn, those looked good.  
“Oh, okay,” I replied, pulling my curly brown hair into a ponytail. With one last look in the mirror, I exited my room.  
Sliding down the banister of the stairs, I jumped off into the ballroom and proceeded to mingle with the guests as everyone took their seats. Everyone was so encouraging, as though they knew for sure that I would be Selected.  
Which I wouldn’t be. I knew that for a fact.  
“Shhh!” my mother, Catherine, scolded as the Report came on. “It’s starting!”  
I took a seat in the front row, leaning back in my chair so I could see better. The screen was being projected across our giant white wall that we only used for the Reports and then movie nights. It wasn’t the most typical wall in the world, but hey, we used it for whatever reason we could find.  
“Welcome, welcome, everyone, to the announcement for The Selection!” Gavril (he was almost 83) said excitedly. The whole crowd of people cheered. “We are so excited to have you join us for Prince Samson’s special day! If he would come on down, please, sir,” he requested.  
The prince walked down the steps and gave an awkward wave to the camera.  
“So, Sam,” Gavril began. “Do you mind if I call you Sam?”  
“Not at all, Gavril,” Samson replied, smiling. “In fact, I quite prefer it.”  
“All righty, then, let’s get this show on the road!” Gavril grinned. “So, what do you think your future wife will look like?”  
“Honestly, I have no clue,” Sam confessed. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I see all the girls and take in their personalities first.”  
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Gavril cooed. “Now, time for the drawings!”  
Thirty-five baskets were brought out, each of them slightly more stuffed than the last. “These baskets in front of you each hold one of your potential wives. Go ahead and pick one, sir,” Gavril instructed Samson.  
The prince nodded, sticking his hand inside the basket labeled “Carolina”.  
Once he had drawn out an envelope, Sam opened it up carefully, squinted at the name, then called out for the mics, “Beth Ratliff from Carolina.”  
After a slight pause for polite applause, he reached into the basket labeled “Angeles”.  
“Shelly Ewing from Angeles.  
“Kiana Cueves from Bankston.  
“Oakley Buck from Clermont.  
“Margarita Schuyler from Waverly.”  
Everyone around me screamed.  
And that’s when my world first went hectic.


End file.
